When Colby was diagnosed it was a much less grand affair. Not ambulances, no questions, no surprises. It was just a quiet sad time.
Just last October we, Jon and I, started to notice that Colby was drinking more water. We didn't panic right away though because he had always been our big water drinker. He loved drinking water, which was weird for us with all these kids that would walk all the way to the gas station just to get some soda. But as the month wore on he seemed to need more. Then the night time peeing started. He either was up at least once a night or he even occasionally would wet the bed. We still didn't panic though. Non of it was over alarming until the very beginning of November. For the space of about 4 nights I noticed that he was up a lot going to the bathroom. It unnerved me, but I tried to push it out of my head because surely if I didn't know what was going on, then it wasn't happening, right?
One night after several nights of this Jon and I were on the couch watching TV when Colby got up to pee. Then about 15 minutes later he did it again. We talked about his symptoms and whether we were being paranoid. We decided to just sit and watch TV and wait for a bit. In the space of an hour he got up no less than 6 times to go to the bathroom. The next debate was who was going to check him. I believe it came down to rock paper scissors. Not to make light of a difficult situation, but we had to find something to lift us up, even if just a bit. I lost and had to go check him. His blood sugar was over 500. Well, with my heart pounding and what tiny bit of hope I had left I checked myself to see if the machine was wacko. I was an nice 120. So I checked him again, cleaning his finger hoping again that maybe he had some left over sugar on his fingers. Nope, it was still over 500 again. I went out to Jon and filled him in. We both just sat on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV not knowing what to say or how to comfort each other.
At that point the debate became whether or not to take him in right then to Primary's, or to wait until the morning. We both decided that it would be best to try to explain to him what was going on after he had a full night's rest, or the best he could get anyway. I will admit that's when the tears started. They weren't tears of fear, or anxiety like in the past with the other kids, they were tears of resignation. Tears of "Oh my gosh, can I do this again?".
By morning we got the kids up and started with the day. Once everyone was up and going we took Colby into our bedroom and explained to him about his blood sugar. He knew what diabetes was, his very best friend and closest sibling had it. He had watched Skyler get shots and blood checks his entire life. He broke down into tears and cried....
"I don't want diabetes, I don't want it...."
" I know honey, but it's not something I can make go away. We are going up to the hospital and we will have to stay for a few days, OK?"
" I don't want to go, I don't want this, why why why?"
By this point in our conversation I was crying as hard as he was. Trying to tell my child that he had this disease was much harder than just dealing with it with our babies. They just trusted and followed our lead. Colby knew and was scared and traumatized.
After telling the other kids, with most of us in tears we had our family prayer, the kids went to school and Jon, Colby and I headed to the hospital. The next few days were more review, more diabetes supplies and more hope that I could fit another diabetic into my day. More worry, more carb counting and more time with a disease that I at one time in my life never even knew anything about.
Colby is a trooper despite his first few days. He tests his blood on his own, he is trying to learn to count carbs and some days he is a shining example to his older sister who is currently trying to forget she has a disease....I love this boy, he is my hero. All my kids are, for different reasons...
